Mind of His Own
by Regina Evans
Summary: Charles's telepathy drives him to isolate himself. His half of the mansion has only one room connected to the outside and has a wall that is a double sided mirror. The only true buffer between Charles and the real world is his butler: Erik Lehnsherr.
1. The Birthday

Charles idly rolled his king in circles on the board before tipping it over. "There's checkmate. Well done, Charles. Good game. Maybe next time Charles will win. And then after that you and Charles can change sides and then Charles will win again. And lose again. Because I talk to myself and this is absurd."

He got up his seat at the mirror and grabbed a book. If you were to ask him what he was reading, he wouldn't be able to say. Something…something was distracting him today. The mirror room was the only room that connected to the outside. Half the mansion was open, the other half was Charles's sanctuary, away from minds and thoughts that weren't his.

"Mr. Xavier?" There was a knock on the mirror and Charles panicked for a moment as the eyes stared in as if they could see through. He froze. Not moving and not speaking. "Mr. Xavier, you need to eat."

Charles stared through the mirror some more. He wasn't in the mirror room often, but when he was, this man was here. The man that he'd hired through the phone company. Maid company. Well not maid, a man not a maid. Butler. Why…why were his thoughts so frazzled today? Charles moved back to his seat by the mirror, ever so close to the man. He had a hard time calling him by name because first name was too informal and he couldn't pronounce the man's last name. "…Xavier?"

Charles scoffed. "E-excuse me. It is _Mr._ Xavier. Not just Xavier."

The man laughed and sat down. "Then call me Mr. Lehnsherr if we're so formal." Charles was silent as he eagerly tried to memorize the sounds but it left his mind so fast. Verbal contact wasn't his forte. He was much more used to the written word.

Charles decided to ignore the name. "Yes, I have eaten."

The man laughed again, a soft laughter that made Charles's stomach flip a little. But that's just because this is the only person he got to speak to, albeit not often, but the way verbal words vibrated through the air was something akin to magic. "Maybe you've had dinner, but I know for a fact you have not eaten Ms. Darkholme's cake. She left it here for you. Did you forget your own birthday?"

Charles stared out. Right. That's why today…his birthday…the day that…they day when… Charles tried to keep his voice as animate as it was before, but it came out rather monotone. "Tell her I don't want it. Today is not a day I celebrate."

Mr. Leh…sher? Lehsher… The man suddenly appeared worried and his eyes searched the glass as if trying to meet Charles's eyes. He did for a moment, not that he knew, and Charles froze yet again. "Excuse me if I'm out of line, but if this is because of some sort of shame of yourself, then just know I'll be celebrating your birthday with Ms. Darkholme whether you choose to or not. Life is meant to be celebrated and yours is no different."

Thoughts whirred through his mind, but none were self degrading. If the man wanted to make his own guesses at why Charles didn't celebrate, so be it. His guess was wrong but it would keep away further questions. "Yes…you are out of line."

The man's thin lips pressed together as he again stared through the mirror, eyebrows scrunched together and a look of…Charles couldn't place it. "I'm sorry, sir."

The man walked out the door and closed it silently behind him. Charles spent the rest of the day forgetting the conversation, forgetting the date, forgetting his past.


	2. The Door

Erik worried about Charles. So kill him. Erik remembered back to his first few days on the job. He'd spent a great deal of time in that study, just laying, looking around, reading books that caught his eyes. Then Raven had come in laughing and asking how long he'd been in there and asking Mr. Xavier how he enjoyed the view. A noise came from the mirror as if someone were surprised and fell out of their chair. That or hid away…or ran away. No voice came from the other side. That wasn't until weeks later. Even after the incident, Erik continued to spend most of his time at the mansion in the study.

As for today, Erik stared down at the cake covered in unlit candles. They couldn't light them if Charles wouldn't blow them out. Erik stared at the door to the kitchen, waiting to see his mysterious employer, his friend, for the first time. He can't say he was surprised when the clock struck midnight and no sound came from that side of the mansion. Erik left the cake in the fridge and walked around the mansion as he usually did when he couldn't sleep. He'd been here a few months now, not yet a year. So no, he hadn't known about the birthday thing. Raven did, but Erik had encouraged her against her protests.

Now his suspicions were confirmed. Aside from the hidden owner, this house held more sadness than he had at first perceived. And he'd perceived quite a bit of it. Enough that he'd remained here. Erik had meant to take this as a temporary job, he'd told Charles as much. Something had changed and Erik didn't want to leave. He was pretty handy around a house anyway. Metal at his command? Rather convenient. He'd tried to tell Raven about it and her eyes had gone wide at the smallest of hints about it, so he figured she had found out already somehow. Which was a life changing moment for Erik because he'd thought it was only him… The way she quickly turned away the idea of speaking of it made Erik wonder… Made Erik wonder if maybe that's why Charles was locked up. Erik rolled his eyes at himself. No, it wasn't locked. He chose to keep his own company. Though Erik had overheard a strangle conversation between Raven and Charles. Charles said something about if the glass was working. At first Erik had thought Charles was making sure Raven couldn't see him, but when he'd thought about it later, he realized Charles had answered… Which could only mean the mirror was keeping something hidden on both sides. Erik couldn't see Charles so what was Charles missing? What was it?

At this point in his walk, Erik came to a door. The door where all the bad vibes came from. In a house like this, with stories looming around every old door, this one was…bizarre. It almost radiated crippling energy. A trauma had happened in that room, behind that locked door. A door that Raven and Charles had both been brought to weeping when Erik asked about it. It all had to be related, didn't it?


	3. The Music

Erik sat outside the study door. The study, the mirror room, the bridge between worlds, whatever the fuck he should be calling it. His niceties were starting to wear off and his plastered on manners were fading. Erik sat on the on the cold tile with his back against the door with a book when he heard the music. There were always different ones as time progressed and they usually were played a few times throughout the week before he moved on to another. Classical music, this time a waltz. This waltz Charles had been playing nearly every day for a month now. The music was always turned up very loud as if to hide another sound. Erik walked into the room. It was a risk, but he'd waited long enough. He didn't hide, he just walked toward his own reflection and hoped to god his guess that Charles was busy and wasn't looking at the room he thought was empty. Erik had to keep himself visible as part of the excuse should Charles spot him.

Finally, when the music dropped for a moment, a stray note held over: the vicious, gut twisting screech of a novice violinist. So the man who always called for textbooks about things Erik hadn't even heard of had a weakness. It appeared he couldn't play an instrument. Well he'd certainly had plenty of time to practice on his own. The music came to a sudden halt.

"What are you doing."

It wasn't a question and Erik stared into the mirror at his own reflection. After a while, he might go insane and think Charles was just his reflection. Maybe he was. Maybe this was a ruse for a 'Let's prove Erik is bipolar' set up. If it was, it was starting to work. "Listening. Sorry, didn't know I had to be both blind _and_ deaf to you. You must be a fucking god if I'm not allowed to lay eyes on you."

Charles was silent in wake of Erik's bitterly sarcastic tone. "…I thought you were usually…well mannered."

Erik rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. "That was for the temp job. If I'm staying here long term, I'm not about to keep up an act the entire time. Fire me if you want, this is what I am."

There was a sound of a chair being pulled out and Erik assumed Charles had taken a seat. "No. No, please stay."

Another silence where so much hung in the air. A plead, a soft lonely sound that rang through Erik's ears so much louder than the music had. "Am I allowed to know how old you are?"

Erik couldn't see Charles's smile, but it was there. Erik also noticed a chess board back on the counter in front of the mirror. "27. Pawn to H3."

Erik's eyes widened for a moment. He'd thought Charles would be older than himself, though he wouldn't argue that the voice sounded quite young. He smiled down at the board, enthused with the newly acquired information, and moved Charles's piece into place as he sat down. "I'm 29. You should leave the music on in the background. I've grown to like the song."

Charles scoffed but Erik could hear the movement of him going to turn it back on. "A _song_? Really? It is a _piece_. A _composition_. Hardly a song. Shostakovich requires more respect than that."

Erik shrugged and placed the next move Charles called out into place. "It's a waltz. May I call it a waltz then?"

A happy surprised noise came from behind the mirror. "You know music?"

Erik thought of an old record player and a song that always sounded from it. Song, piece, whatever. "I know enough to know that's a waltz. Do you dance?"

Silence again. Then, "No." In that same monotone as when he'd asked about the birthday. The rest of the game was played in silence.

-x-

Charles happily announced to himself that he'd finally had a game that ended without him both congratulating and consoling himself. Erik had chuckled and Charles's cheeks heated at the warm sound. It'd been ages since he last had a friend.


	4. The Ultimatum

"Do you know how to waltz, then?"

Charles, yet again, startled at the unexpected presence. Erik sat lounging on the couch, not even bothering to try to find the eyes within the mirror anymore. Charles licked his lips as they had suddenly gone dry. "N-no. I don't. Kind of hard to practice a two person dance on your own. …I used to."

Erik glanced up at the mirror for a fraction of a second and looked back away. "I could teach you, assuming you come out or you let me in."

Charles's eyes went wide in horror. "That. Is something that can never happen. I can never leave and no one can ever enter."

That was the first time Erik had heard the word 'never' associated with his employer's choice in lifestyle and it boiled his blood. Erik stood and quickly made his way to the glass. "You listen to me. Look around for a second. Look at what a great fucking life you could have. I don't know what you're hiding from or what you're so damn scared of but you have a chance here. You can do whatever you want and you lock yourself away. Forever. That. _That is the most immature thing I've ever heard_. Now go on. Fire me. Fire me before I force you out of that godforsaken prison." It was quiet for an extremely long moment, but Erik didn't regret his words. Finally from the silence, a small sound could be heard: a muffled sound, a sob. "Now you're crying, and I could comfort you if you'd just let me-"

"_YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND._" His breathing because very fast and shallow. "You don't understand why I'm here and you don't know and you just have to assume that you're right, don't you? You think I'm _choosing_ to do this? _I don't have much of a choice_. Maybe, maybe one day I'll tell you. But not today because if there were ever a way to lose my trust, your words would have done it. Now get out of this room and don't you dare say another word to me about this." Erik stood firm in his place. Charles stared at him as he shivered through his tears and the pain brought on from Erik's words turned, for a second, into rage. "_GO!_"

Erik reached into his pocket and pulled out a bunch of folded up papers. He dropped them on the shelf in front of the mirror. His voice was soft, but still strong. "This is my story. Should you decide to step out for a moment to take it back with you, it's yours to read. If not, I'll be back tomorrow to pick it up."

Erik turned and left to await his termination. His previous thoughts were wrong, against all odds, maybe he did still have things to lose.


	5. The Beginning

Erik woke up with a start. Memories flew through his head. Memories he'd long since buried in his mind. His mother's gentle hands helping him up. Him tugging on her apron as she made him lunch. Her gentle smile as he knocked over yet another vase. Her body crumpling in front of him as she moved Erik behind her when the robber burst into the store. All these memories scrapped their way to the front of his mind combined with a terrified, panicked and sobbing voice that shouted _I'M SO SORRY._ And as if a door shut, it all went away. Erik sat, gasping for breath. His entire being felt raw from being forced head first into the cold bucket of his past. And that voice, Charles's voice…

He opened the door.

That's what must have happened. Erik, easily wide awake after the events that took place, sprinted to the study. "Charles!" He screamed it. Raven was the only other person in the house so it's not as if he was risking waking too many people.

Erik heard things fall and he could just see a shaky figure backing away from the mirror. "I'm. I'm s-so s-sorry. I. Didn't mean. Please don't be. Ang-angry. Erik, I. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to see. I tried not to see. I didn't mean to. I. Sorry. So, so sorry."

Erik's head whipped back and forth. "No it's…it's alright. Charles, you…you were in my head. How did you do that?" A surge of curiosity leapt forward and Erik reevaluated the glass in front of him. It certainly was more than a mirror if it help back…whatever that was.

It was quiet for awhile as Charles seemed to take in that Erik wasn't upset. Erik heard Charles clear his voice. "I believe you should be addressing me as Mr. Xavier."

Erik's laughter was far from civilized and it was actually crude enough that Erik embarrassed himself. "No. We're way passed that now. I call you Charles. You call me Erik."

It was quiet again before he heard Charles's voice, soft and clear, "…Erik."

Erik found himself smiling fondly and shook it off. "Yes. Now, how did you do that?"

Erik could practically hear Charles shaking his head. "It's…nothing that I. I mean as far as control. It started. I…don't know. I really don't know what it is. But I've been studying and-"

Erik could've slapped himself. He backed away from the glass, pacing. "God, of course! The text books! You're always reading on genetics. Holy fuck. And a guy like me, so aware of. And I didn't even fucking notice. God, I'm an idiot." Again it was silent and Erik tried to force himself to stop cursing. It seemed to make Charles even more uncomfortable than necessary. "Me too. Genetics."

Another scrambling of furniture being pushed out of the way before Erik heard Charles's voice practically pressed against the glass. "Wait, you mean…you…"

Erik smiled as he placed his hand against the mirror. "You're not alone, Charles." The metal in the room slowly began to float up behind him. Erik didn't need to see past the glass to know that, against all odds, Charles Xavier was smiling.


	6. The Move to AO3

Hey guys! Sorry, this ISN'T a new chapter but I figured I'd let you know I moved this fic to AO3. I just like the format better. My username there is aprofessorstale. If you're still waiting for updates for some CRAZY reason, thanks for your...patience and your strange loyalty. NEVER DOUBT THAT I DO INDEED LOVE YOU.


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